


What if ROBERT was a pretty lady?

by Zip001



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fluff, gender swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:55:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zip001/pseuds/Zip001
Summary: Inspired by the adorable drawing from@foltosszalamandra.what-if-robert-was-a-pretty-lady@foltosszamandra is so talented and witty!





	1. Always yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueCichlid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueCichlid/gifts), [MissSusanVance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSusanVance/gifts), [mademoiselle_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mademoiselle_k/gifts).



She loved making him blush. All she had to do was look into his kind grey eyes and bite her lip, and he would look away but yet he would not withdraw his arm from her.

He huffed, “You are too much. Jon is looking at us.”

She whispered as she stopped them to fix his cloak, “He would want us to be happy. You make me happy, the happiest since-”

She looked away. And even if they all saw, including Jon and her betrothed, Ned touched her face, wiping her tears with his thumb, and leaned down, his forehead against hers.

“My lady,” he hoarsely whispered.

“Always yours.”


	2. A Type

His brother said that he had a type, teasing him mercilessly about his shyness towards Lady Ashara, a dark haired beauty. Ned still felt bitter at his brother pushing him onto her and making him dance while Brandon laughed with his friends in the background. While Lady Ashara may be lovely, she was more like the waning moon to the bright sun of his lady, his Roberta, his Robbie.

Robbie was, of course, the most beautiful woman he met, the most beautiful of all the seven kingdoms and beyond he fervently believed. But her pleasing physical appearance - her black, so black that it was almost blue, hair, her sapphire eyes, her pouty pink lips, her fair skin, her statuesque yet curvaceous body - was not the reason why he was in love with his lady.

When she was with him, Ned felt so alive, so complete. It was always easy with them after her grabbing his hands when they first met. He always felt awkward - he was not charming like his older brother, not a jokester like his younger brother, nor even as brave as his younger sister. He was just Ned, the one oft overlooked, who dutifully did what he was told, did the chores his sibling conveniently forgot to do as they knew he would do it for him.

But she saw him.

He told her everything, things he was ashamed of, his being jealous of his brother, of hating his brother making jokes at his expense. But instead of laughing at him, she shook her fists, hissing that his brother was an arse, that she would hit him on the side of the head.

In turn, she, seeming to be so bright and yet so fierce, revealed her fragile side to him, confessing her pain when her parents died and her frustration with her brother Stanny, who was so resentful and bitter, always making some biting comments about her blithely forgetting their parents whenever she tried to be merry when she thought of them all the time. They had to move on - it had been almost three years. No amount of grieving would ever bring them back. Robbie remembered them, knew that they wanted them to live and be happy. Stanny may have been too young to remember anything but that tragic day. She remembered her parents’ love, how her father made her mother laugh so hard she cried.

And that is why Ned always told her a joke everyday, one of the jokes he collected from everyone he met, the puns from their lord, the silly ones from the serving girls, and even the bawdy jokes from the stable boys. No matter if he botched the set-up or even the punch line or both, she would snort, cackle, and laughed until tears streamed down her face.

"Oh, Ned," she would sputter.

Yea, he had a type - his lady who would laugh until she cried.


	3. I would not dishonor you

They look like a vision as they waltzed gracefully around the large hall. The Targaryen prince and his soon to be Stag princess. They were such a striking couple - fire, her flashing sapphire eyes, and ice, the silver prince’s cold violet eyes.

No matter what they vowed to each other, their foreheads touching, Ned knew that they were not meant be. Her late parents agreed to the betrothal - she was meant to be Queen.

He sighed.

Lord Jon placed his hand on Ned’s tense shoulder as they watched her hissing something to the prince when his hand lowered down her back. Shaking his head, his lord snorted at his young fiery ward.

Ned had to defend her.

“She would be a great queen.”

“Ned, you know that she would drive him crazy, crazier than even his father,” his lord whispered with a grin. “She, our girl, is a wonder, a force to be reckon with.”

Ned bitterly replied, “He does not deserve her.”

She was the most stubborn person he knew, but it was what made him love her. It was her dogged pursuit of him, of her not letting him lie to her and to himself. 

He fell for her from the first day they met, her vibrant personality and easy laugh, and her even larger heart. When he stumbled on his words upon first meeting her, she immediately grabbed both his hands and smiled widely at him.

“I know we would be the greatest of friends.”

And they were and more.

She immediately took to Lord Jon and him, taking care of them, and made it her mission to make her serious Ned have fun. She would steal him from his boring, as she called them, lessons to go riding and hunting. When she first confessed that he initially reminded her of her younger brother, broody Stanny, his heart sank, until she whispered, “But more handsome.”

He knew it was wrong all of his stolen kisses, how he would kiss her until they were both breathless. She would touch him, making his blood burn, but he was careful with her. She, his queen of love and beauty, was well worth the wait of their wedding night, the night that was naught to be. 

Last night, before her betrothed’s arrival along with his court, her begging to be dishonored almost broke him. If she was not a maiden, the betrothal would be broken. 

Ned cried into her dark tresses.

‘I would not dishonor you.’


	4. Not a Man

Ned almost rushed to attack the prince who was grabbing her as she tried to pull away from him, but was held back by the iron grip of his lord.

“You are not your brother, not a fool,” Lord Jon hissed. 

His lord made a small motion with his head to the heavily armoured and armed king’s guards and then down to their persons, unarmed and in their best finery, which were lovingly sewn by Roberta. It was the King’s orders, that no one but his guards and he would be armed in the presence of himself and his son.

Even if he had Father’s Ice, he would be quickly cut down by the likes of Ser Arthur Dayne, Ashara’s brother, and his brothers in arms. And the prince knew it, he made a point to stare defiantly at Ned as his hand grabbed her bottom, like the way some crass men did to serving girls. 

He willed himself not to cry in frustration, to not embarrass her.

“He is hurting her and treating her as if she was a common wench.”

“He will soon learn to treat her well - do not worry, she would make sure of it. And she will learn too.”

“She is doing naught wrong.”

“Lady Roberta represents her house, House Baratheon. Her behavior is not proper - a vow by the head of her House, her late father, was made, and she must act honorably, do her duty and fulfill those vows. She must bend her will.”

Ned saw her head suddenly drop, not longer defiant, and her stiff body pliant as the prince held her closely. He wanted to throttle the prince.

His lord sadly nodded.

“Why must she bend?”

“Whilst she may do no wrong in your eyes, our Roberta is too impulsive, willful even, much used to having her way.”

It was true that she demanded respect that was rightfully afforded to her being the eldest in her family. But she deserved it, running her Keep whilst still a child and carrying for her younger siblings. He did not know if he could do the same if faced in same situation if something horrible happened to his father and Brandon. Ned would be so lost and overwhelmed, not knowing if he could go on.

Ned closed his eyes and turned away.

Strong hands grabbed his face.

“Ned, look at me, it is time that she learns that she cannot do whatever she wants, that she knows her place, that she is not a man.”


	5. Rescue

As he slowly scaled up the tower, cursing at the heavy bag that he tied onto himself, a bag full of provisions, including a whole roasted chicken, as his Robbie had a huge appetite, and a change of clothing, he began to have doubts of his plan, or more precisely, lack thereof. Ned could hear Jon Arryn haranguing him that he was not thinking, that he was acting like Robbie, but he knew that he had to take her away, away from that vile prince.

As he got closer to her window, he heard her crying. Robbie rarely cried, only that one time when she talked about her parents' deaths. He had to get to her, had to comfort her, hold her in his arms.

He climbed faster and hoisted himself through the open window. Ned rushed towards her, hugging her.

"Ned," she whispered as he gently kissed her wet face, trying to kiss her tears away. 

She pushed him back. "You should not be here."

She never pushed him away. She was always the one tearing his clothes off (and then mending them the next day).

"Oh, Ned, what is that bag? Ned, no," she tearfully whispered.

"We can run away to the Free Cities, just like you said," Ned said. "I will not let him touch you - if Jon did not hold me back, that arse would be sporting a black eye."

"Ned, they would kill you, burn you, Jon and your family. My family. I watched my parents die - I could not save them but I can save you, my dear Ned... I would not be able to take it if you die. Please, my love."

Ned cried. Once Robbie made a decision, it was always final.

"Oh, Ned, you will find a proper girl, a girl that Jon approves, have a proper family, what you always want, what you truly deserve. I-I only want you to be happy."

She touched his wet face and leaned to kiss him good bye. Just as before, he reached for her hands, to hold them in his. He pulled back when he felt her rough knuckles, the skin broken and her left hand swollen.

"Robbie?" he asked as he gently kissed her bloody knuckles.

"I may have punched him," she quietly said.

"You may have punched him?" he asked incredulously. 

"He may have lost a tooth."

They both grinned.


	6. Epilogue

Their boys, all named Aegon to spite the King, were fast but not as fast as their mother who chased them down, tackling them to the ground, and kissing them as they giggled and tried to squirm away. She knew that they still loved her displays of affection and were pretending to be too old for them. They loved their silly Mum.

Breathlessly, Roberta turned around and realized that she was missing her Ned, her love. Normally, he would hide with their youngest and would be the first to be found as they would be both giggling.

“Boys, go clean up and get ready for supper.”

Each cutely pouted, just like their father, but obediently went to get cleaned up. The littlest one needed a playful pat in the butt to get going.

Roberta tried to walk silently to the godswood but she was a large woman. Even when they were young, she was always much larger than Ned, towering over him and weighing more than him. And now after five children, she was decidedly heftier than she once was, with each child, she retained some of the baby weight. Ned was still slim, long, lean muscles and tight round ass. Each step scrunched so loudly but yet he did not turn around.

She stopped and stared at her love, still so beautiful in her eyes, at his rugged profile as he laid his forehead against the tree. He was her love and the father of her children, even though he was not her husband and could not publicly acknowledge the dark haired blue/grey-eyed children as his.

Ned deserved more - she told him that so many years ago, begging him to forget her, to find happiness with another lady who could give him the family he deserved.

Her Ned was good, noble and honorable, and what they have been doing, cuckolding the prince and now the King, all these years, were not any of that. As Jon admonished them so many times before, a good man does fuck another man’s wife.

Ned always told her that it was never a fuck, what they did, regardless of the positions she wanted to try out or the filthy things she said to him that made him so hard for her, that it was love-making, and that she was his wife under the eyes of the old gods ever since he cloaked her and made him hers. She wanted to believe that but always worried that he would change his mind, find someone much younger, lovelier and smaller, and leave her and their children.

Roberta closed her eyes, trying to not cry and try to be cheerful. She wanted his happiness and never wanted to cause him any grief. It was better this way, she told herself. She could be the bigger woman, no pun intended, and be gracious to his new wife, whomever she was.

When she opened her eyes, Ned was smiling. He had a caterpillar in his hand like he did so many years ago, when he give her his first gift of love (which was followed by a leaf, then a rock, and a kiss).

“My love, it has been ten years since we met,” he said.

“Oh Ned,” she squealed and tackled him to the ground, squashing the poor bug like she did before. She showered him with hungry kisses and tiny nibbles. Ned laughed once he got his breath back.

“Robbie, you and our children make me so happy. I love you, my Queen of Love and Beauty!”


End file.
